


prejudices

by AdiAbieu



Series: anthology [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-08-29 10:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16742509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdiAbieu/pseuds/AdiAbieu
Summary: Maggie carefully pulls out a second silk tie. She snakes it around her fingers, and then watches it slither along her joints as she tugs on the end. Alex watches how the material whispers along a hand that has come to know her body almost as well as she does.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 3 times Alex challenges a prejudice and finds out something about her sexuality through the use of a toy.
> 
> i) She thinks she won't like penetration because she didn't like it with men.

The first time is an accident. 

It’s morning, and Alex is half asleep. Maggie goes to the shower and shouts that they’re out of toothpaste. Through the spray, she instructs Alex to go into the drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe; that’s where she keeps all of her extra supplies. The problem is that there are two drawers, and an even chance of choosing correctly. 

She chooses wrongly. 

Coloured dildos and leather straps are not conducive to a shower, she’s sure. 

“Babe?” a concerned voice calls, punctuated by the rattle of the shower curtain along the railing. 

“Coming!” Alex squeaks, ramming shut the drawer and opening its companion. She grabs the new toothpaste and scrambles for the bathroom. 

The second time is pure curiosity. 

A quick check to see if what she thought she had seen was indeed what she had seen. 

Maggie had recently given her a key, and encourages her to make herself at home while she finishes paperwork at the precinct. Alex tries to settle on Maggie’s couch and be content with Netflix, but ends up wandering into the bedroom anyway. She tiptoes, as if her girlfriend were hiding there ready to pounce out. 

She keeps glancing at the doorway as she carefully slides the drawer out. Some of these  _ objects _ she’s only ever seen on TV. She wasn’t even sure people had these. They certainly look more sophisticated than her simple pink vibrator. She dares to pick up a marbled green and blue toy, feels its fleshy weight in her hand. With a shiver, she drops it and closes the drawer. 

The third time is a proper investigation. 

They spend the late afternoon in bed together, and then Maggie nips out to get dinner. Alex waits two whole minutes after the shutting of the apartment door, and then dons Maggie’s shirt to go rifling in the bottom of the wardrobe. She runs silk ties over her fingers, prods at phallic shaped toys in a variety of sizes, and frowns at the neat row of coloured bottles. 

The last time, she gets caught.

It’s a fresh Sunday morning, and Maggie has a graveyard shift to work that night. They sleep as late as they can, and then she offers to go and get something for lunch. Alex kisses her squarely and asks for a surprise. Again, Alex waits for the close of the apartment door before she leaps out of bed. Except this time, Maggie never leaves. 

Still in her socks, Maggie moves quiet as a fawn across the forest floor, and Alex doesn’t notice she’s being watched until a throat clears.  

“If you’re looking for a surprise, you’re definitely gonna find one in there.”

Alex slams the drawer shut so fast, she almost catches her fingers. “Maggie!”

She crosses her arms and ankles, leaning against the doorframe. Her face is passive and neutral, but her eyes blaze with expectancy. 

Alex knits her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“For invading my privacy?”

“Yes,” Alex says shamefully. 

When Maggie doesn’t say anything more, she fidgets with the hem of Maggie’s shirt. The tense silence makes her skin itch. Eventually, she stutters out an explanation just to fill the quiet. “I-I accidentally opened this one morning instead of the other and…” She knocks her knuckles against the wooden wardrobe. 

With a sigh, Maggie pushes off the door frame and comes over. “Open it.”

“What?”

“Open it.” She sits down and folds her legs up, gesturing at the drawer. 

As if she were scared a rodent was inside ready to snap out at her, Alex pulls out the drawer. Embarrassed at seeing its contents with company and with being caught snooping, she looks away. 

“What’s wrong?” Maggie asks, with more patience than Alex thinks she deserves.

“I really am sorry.”

“I don’t think being caught red-handed going through my personal belongings is why you can’t look me in the eye,” Maggie says calmly, “I think it’s the fact that it’s a drawer full of sex toys.”

Alex can’t refute that, she can’t lift her eye above the edge of the drawer. She concentrates on the knots and swirls in the wood, the darkened spots and the chipped notch near the corner. Anything except the contents inside or the woman beside her.

“It’s okay to be curious.” Maggie tugs the drawer out even further, leaving nothing hidden in the shadow of the wardrobe. “I just wish you’d have told me.”

Alex snorts. “How did you even know?”

Maggie gives her a coy look. “You know you’re sleeping with a detective, right?” She reaches in to pinch a bottle of burgundy liquid. She unclicks the top, sniffs it, and hums in satisfaction. “You could do with this.”

Blinking, Alex asks, “What is it?”

“Massage oil.” Maggie tilts her wrist to present it, and Alex takes it. 

She rotates it and reads the label:  _ French Lavender. _ She raises an eyebrow. “Are you offering to give me a massage?”

“You need one.”

Rather than refute the statement, Alex wafts the bottle under her nose. She hums at the pleasant smell. The thought of Maggie straddling her lower back and working out the kinks of her shoulders and neck has a definite appeal. 

“I might hold you to that,” she says, recapping the bottle and placing it back in the drawer. 

Without comment, Maggie starts to inspect the other bottles lined up like a row of soldiers. Alex watches her turn them this way and that, reading the labels. Then she takes out a navy scarf to investigate closer. She stretches her arms, holding the scarf out at its full length. 

“Feel free to look,” Maggie says, but talks more to the scarf than her girlfriend. She concentrates on cycling her wrists and wrapping the fabric up into a neat ball. Setting it aside, she pulls out another, this time crimson. She pulls it taunt, and begins to repeat the wrapping. 

Grateful that Maggie knows her well enough to pretend that she isn’t under any scrutiny or unwanted attention, Alex peers into the box. The agitation has receded, and now that she knows Maggie isn’t affronted by her, she lets her curiosity seep back. 

She reaches in and dangles a leather contraption from her forefingers. “What’s this?”

“It’s a harness.” At Alex’s blank stare, Maggie rolls the crimson ball up and sets it aside, suppressing a smile. “You know, for a strap-on?”

The harness jumps off of Alex’s finger as she flinches. “Oh.”

“You put a toy in and you…” Maggie’s brow twitches, clearly swallowing the urge to laugh. “Strap-on, I guess.”

“Yup. Got it.” Gingerly, Alex picks it up again, pulling it out taut. She surveys the buckles, glances at Maggie’s slim hips and folded legs, and flushes. “Would you want to wear…  _ it _ ?”

“I can.” Maggie pulls out a black, silk tie, thin and translucent. She peeks over it as she stretches it out, her voice dipping dangerously: “Would you want me to?” 

Alex lowers the harness and runs her fingertip over the curved tip of a toy. She remembers the discomfort caused by dry skin against dry skin, or worse, a condom. The friction that she had gritted her teeth against and forced herself to relax in the face of. She can’t imagine that these materials will be any more pleasant rubbing inside of her. 

“I just really didn’t like…” She withdraws from the drawer and fists her hands in frustration at being unable to say the simplest things. “I don’t like things… inside me.” 

Maggie folds the silk into a neat bunch on her lap. Alex knows she is processing in that wordless way that she does, but every second of breathing space she receives, she runs closer to jumping up and walking away from all of  _ this  _ laid out in front of them. 

“You don’t like penetration,” Maggie clarifies.

With the inflection, relief floods through Alex’s system. It’s clear that Maggie is on the right track, that all along she had known that  _ I never liked being intimate _ meant  _ I never liked having sex _ ; that while the discovery that Alex could be brought to orgasm by another person’s touch- albeit a woman’s- that did not mean that she would enjoy the rest of the experiences she had shunned with men, specifically intercourse. 

And as immature as she felt trying to express it, Alex is relieved that Maggie realises that  _ I never liked being intimate  _ was just a euphemistic coverage of all the times she had taken men in her hand, her mouth, inside, and felt the disconnect from what she thought she  _ should _ want and what her body was telling her. 

So she bites her lip and powers through as honestly as she can. “It’s never felt good before. It’s just been a stretch, and then pressure. It’s always felt… invasive.” She nods towards the row of toys with their bright, taunting colours. “I’m worried that these will be even worse.” 

Maggie carefully pulls out a second silk tie. She snakes it around her fingers, and then watches it slither along her joints as she tugs on the end. Alex watches how the material whispers along a hand that has come to know her body almost as well as she does. The tie comes loose after the last knuckle, and Maggie wraps her fingers up just to repeat the journey again. 

“You like my fingers inside you, don’t you?” Maggie asks, watching the black silk drifting as she pulls.

“Yes-” Alex’s teeth clack shut at how quickly she answers, and she shakes her head. “But this is- it’s- bigger.”

“It is.” Maggie suddenly yanks the rest of the tie and bunches it up with the other on her lap. Finally, she focuses her attention back on Alex, gesturing to the row of bottles. “Lube can go a long way.”

Alex pokes a finger at the marbled toy, again feeling its fleshy texture. Her gaze skitters along the items again, taking in the harness and the bottles. Without the scarves, she spies tiny metal clips with a chain glimmering from a hiding spot in the corner. There are a number of smaller toys that she quickly averts her gaze from - at least she knows where  _ they _ go.

She doesn’t want to let Maggie down because maybe she  _ should _ like these things as a lesbian. This is Maggie’s collection, one which she had built up over time with countless other women and which told of her own preferences. What would Maggie want? 

Alex lifts the harness again. She swings it towards the toys, not quite brave enough to hold one in front of Maggie yet. “Would you wanna use one of these?”

“Maybe. Or we could go to a store and get one together?”

She tries to imagine that. She barely had the courage to order her own vibrators online. Going to a sex toy store is a rite of passage she isn’t sure how to prepare for. She drops the harness back into the drawer, blushing at the elastic blindfold that it topples onto.

“What do you get out of it?”

“You mean…?” At Alex’s nod, Maggie grins wolfishly. “A hell of a lot.”

Alex knows she’s a grown woman, and she decides to force down the skittishness. She has questions, and if she wants the answers, she needs to be brave enough to ask. 

“Can you come?” At Maggie’s eyebrow raise, she waves at the drawer. “Wearing it, I mean.”

Maggie sits back, giving Alex a once over as if the question has changed the context of the conversation entirely. “I have a time or two, yeah.” 

Alex imagines the pleasure smoothing out over Maggie’s features as she thrusts deep inside of her; the shudder of her hips as she presses them forward and the long groan as she comes. And suddenly, all of her grievances about being under someone who was taking her like that washes away and there is only Maggie and her in the bed behind them. Her mind whites out in realisation.

“Listen, Alex,” Maggie says, gently wrapping a hand around on of her wrists and pulling her back to the present, “Don’t panic, okay? None of this is a requirement.”

Alex stares down at the knuckles which had kissed silk only minutes ago. She thinks again about faceless women that had shared these things with Maggie, and whom Maggie had shared fantasies with in return. She wants to be the best lover she can be, and that means that there is more learning she has to do; not just for herself, but for Maggie. 

“I know I have a lot of catching up to do, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold back with me.” She didn’t expect those particular words to fall out, but now that they have, she looks up and meets the kind eyes that had melted her from the start. 

“We just might have to go slow,” she confesses.  

Maggie’s lips twitch. She rubs her thumb against the bone of Alex’s wrist. “You’re a pretty fast learner.” She packs away the scarves and ties, and then stands, brushing off her jeans. She reaches out to help Alex stand up. “And hey, you might not even like any of that stuff. And that’s okay.”

Alex isn’t sure that it is okay. Her insecurities about those nameless women and the drawer full of sex paraphernalia are still in the forefront of her mind, but she endeavours to leave it and mull it over later. 

She bounces on her toes. “So, lunch?”

“Oh hell no.” Maggie turns and walks out of the bedroom, throwing back: “ _ You _ got caught snooping, so  _ you _ can go get lunch.”

~

Alex feels ridiculous. 

They had been stumbling their way towards the bedroom, and Maggie had even worked her pants and jacket off, when she got a call from the precinct. To give her girlfriend privacy, Alex continued on into the bedroom, but the longer the phonecall lasts, the sillier she feels dressed in her t-shirt, socks and panties.

She curls her toes into the cream rug at the bottom of Maggie’s bed, thinking about how it had only taken her ten days to break and ask Maggie for what they had planned to do tonight. She had been so sure when they were kissing, when Maggie’s hands were on her, but now she stares down at her striped socks and feels the doubts edging back. 

Penetration was like a cut she had picked the scab of time and again until it scarred over. Every time she had been with a guy, let them touch her and fuck her, it was with the hope that  _ this time _ would be different. While her view on sex in general has changed with Maggie, this specific act has revived old fears. 

Yet the more she conjured up the scenario in her mind, the more her desires had swung like a pendulum between fantasy and fear. Trying new things had paid off in spades before. After all, she had been anxious about going down on a woman in the lead up to Maggie taking her to bed for the first time. Now the only regret she has is hesitating as much as she did. 

And so ten days after Maggie finding her searching the drawer, she had asked if they could try this. 

“Sorry about that,” Maggie says, still thumbing through her phone as she enters, “Guy in lockup was asking for Sawyer. Wouldn’t stop yelling about it.”

Alex plants one heel on the bed, hugging her bent leg and resting her chin on her knee. “Do you have to go?”

“Nope. Wasn’t me.” Maggie plugs her phone into the charger and sets it down on the dresser. “Sawyer was the name of a guy who ratted him out, apparently.” 

“Oh.”

Maggie returns to the bedroom door and shuts it, before turning back to Alex with a predatory smile. “Besides, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

She saunters over and taps Alex’s knee until she puts it back on the floor. She steps between Alex’s legs, and sways closer to cradle Alex’s jaw in her hands. With a grin, Alex pulls her down and kisses her soundly. She runs her hands up Maggie’s jean-clad thighs. She takes her time, slowly unbuckling Maggie’s belt, enjoying the way Maggie’s hands slip further into her hair. 

Maggie steps back to shuck off her jeans and Alex takes the opportunity to shuffle up onto the middle of the bed. Her stomach dips as Maggie crawls up between her legs. It’s a sight she has been treated to a dozen or more times by now, and yet it always seizes her like it did the first time. 

Maggie nips at Alex’s earlobe and lets her hands travel underneath her t-shirt. Alex practically purrs at the touch, and as Maggie sits up to tug off her shirt and bra, she has a random insight. The detective has some stretch marks around her hips where she jokes that she got her one and only every growth spurt. Alex didn’t realise that sleeping with a woman would not only let her be comfortable with another’s body but with her own, as well. 

“Is there any way you wanna do this?” Maggie asks, pressing down against her, “Any position you prefer?” 

“I don’t really prefer anything,” Alex answers.

Maggie tilts her head, and then leans down to murmur, “You could be on top.” 

Alex has been in a number of positions before. But from behind made her feel used, on top made her feel exposed, and being below someone made her feel trapped. In the time it takes Maggie to kiss the length of her neck, she tries to think on her options, on what she’s done before. All she remembers is sweat, panic, and men’s chest hair scraping against her skin. 

As much as there’s a curl of pure desire in reaction to the way Maggie mouthed the words  _ you could be on top _ into her skin as if it was actually a request, she wants more intimacy. She wants to experience what she missed all of those other times.  

“Can you-?” She loses her nerve, but Maggie straightens up, and she’s caught by those patient eyes.  

“Can I…?”

Alex wonders how on Earth she is supposed to explain to Maggie that she just wants to have boring, missionary sex with someone that she  _ cares _ about; to experience someone wrapping her in their arms and taking her because she wants to give herself to them. She thinks about the drawer mere feet away, filled to the brim with temptations and items whose uses are beyond her wildest dreams. She imagines Maggie and those women...

Her resolve crumbles and she scoffs, “God, it’s pathetic...”

She looks away but Maggie’s gentle fingertips catch her chin. 

“Nothing is pathetic if it’s what you want,” Maggie assures softly. 

Alex swallows down the thickness in her throat. “I’ve never had it- like- I mean-” 

“Alex.” Maggie’s steady gaze doesn’t let hers escape a second time. “Just say it.”

“I’ve never had sex that way and had it be…” She searches for the right words. “Not rough.” 

Something flashes across Maggie’s eyes. “You mean-?”

“No, not like that.” Alex’s hands had been listless on the sheets, but they jump to Maggie’s ribs, caressing back and forth as if to dispel that notion. “Just… thinking about themselves, and making themselves feel good.” 

“You’ve had guys who took and never gave.”

Alex gives a hollow smile. “In more ways than one.”

Maggie’s fingertips wander, caressing over her cheek, and finally Alex looks away shyly. 

“They were selfish,” Maggie mutters, “They weren’t good to you.”

“It’s whatever.” She almost can’t handle the depth of Maggie’s fretting over her, and tries to shake them loose to their usual buoyant atmosphere again. “Men, am I right?”

But Alex’s weak joke skims by Maggie, who frowns and cups Alex’s cheek. “I’ll be as gentle as you want.”

Again, she has been easily interpreted by her girlfriend. “You don’t think I’m being pathetic?”

“Alex, no. Never.”

Maggie’s eyes are steadfast, and Alex has always known that of all the physical features she became aware of being attracted to, it was Maggie’s gaze that hooked her in from the beginning.

Maggie shifts, reaching a hand between them. She tenderly runs the back of her knuckles against the inside of Alex’s knee, and then gently pushes against it to ease herself between Alex’s legs. She grinds her hips down, and Alex whimpers before she can suppress it.   

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I uh…” Alex flattens her palms on Maggie’s ribcage. “I like this.” 

Maggie seems to make something up in her mind, and gives a little smile. “I’ll be good to you.”

She begins her explorations in much the usual way, kissing down over her collarbones and breasts. Alex used to hate the blemishes and scars on her body until she slept with Maggie, who had somehow deciphered their patterns as a map for her lips to follow when they made love. 

“Keep doing that and I’d argue you’re being  _ very _ good to me,” Alex says, enjoying the first shiver that trills over her skin as Maggie reaches her navel. 

“You’re flattering me?” Maggie teases, pulling off Alex’s underwear, “I think I’m supposed to be flattering you.”

Maggie taps her hip and crooks a finger. Alex bows her back, and then manoeuvres a pillow under her. They share a smirk, knowing this is usually a sure sign that one of them was settling in for a while.  

“This will help later too,” Maggie says, the words lost into the top of Alex’s curls as she lays flat.

Alex hums and lolls her head at the initial contact. She used to think she was quiet during sex, either from lack of enjoyment or because a lot of sex noises were put on for show anyway. Anything to stroke your partner’s ego and get it over with. It was just another in the list of misconceptions and myths that Maggie had helped her correct. 

Especially on nights like tonight, where Maggie is determined to draw moans out of her that vibrate her entire chest. 

Just as Alex can feel the heady rush of blood thudding in her throat and building in her stomach, Maggie pulls away.

“I think you’re just about ready,” she declares, getting off the bed.  

Alex lets out an exasperated huff, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks and trying to ignore the throbbing pressure between her legs.  

At the sight of the toy, those nerves return momentarily. She watches Maggie strip off her underwear and methodically slip into the harness, deftly moving through the buckles. The toy bobs comically between her legs, and if Alex’s heart wasn’t in her throat, she might have laughed.

Maggie returns and kneels between her legs. She rolls a bottle between her palms, and then sets it down in front of her. She sits back on her heels, silently observing Alex’s flushed body. Anxious at the examination, Alex says the first thing that comes to mind just to fill the silence. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how-” She pauses as Maggie strips the shirt off and lets it fall off the end of the bed. “-good that shirt looked…”

Maggie takes off her bra, hooking the strap over her finger and letting it dangle. Then she too lets it fall onto the cream mat at the bottom of the bed. Alex wants to tell her that she doesn’t need to build up the anticipation any longer, but she can’t find her voice. 

Reaching out to wrap a hand around each of Alex’s feet, Maggie pulls off Alex’s striped socks, which had survived thus far. Then she circles the ankle bones with her thumbs, and with a knowing smile she pushes them apart, effectively spreading Alex’s legs wider.  

“Yeah?” she prompts.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Maggie says, and lingers, smiling. Finally, she reaches for the bottle of lube, clicking open the top and squeezing a small amount of clear liquid into the centre of her hand. 

Alex inches up on her elbows, watching as Maggie works the toy with her fist. She can’t tear her eyes away, her stomach tightening at the image. She remembers dozens of times before, watching old boyfriends stroke themselves as they knelt between her legs, readying themselves to be inside her. Sometimes they were sliding condoms on, other times just touching themselves as a demonstration, waiting for her to compliment them, perhaps. It always caused a ripple of disgust, watching how they held themselves in their fist, gaping like morons with their dark eyes and slack jaws. 

But watching Maggie is entirely different. Alex watches the slight tilt of her head as she thoroughly prepares the toy. She glances up, catches Alex’s eye with a quirk of her mouth. 

“Okay?”

Alex’s gaze darts down and up again. “Yeah.”

Maggie inches forward on her knees, and Alex closes her eyes, bracing for the initial discomfort. Instead she groans as Maggie uses her fingertips to tease at her. She cracks open an eyelid, tracing the languid movement between her legs, up the tensing forearm, to Maggie’s face.

“We can stop at any time,” Maggie says. 

Alex lets out throaty chuckle. “Can you say that when you-” She gasps and her fists curl in the sheets as she steadies her voice “-when you don’t have your fingers on my clit?”

Maggie snickers. “No promises.”

There is no rush inside, no shoving her down into the mattress, no hands gripping or grabbing. There is only Maggie taking her time, working her fingers inside. One, then two, and then a third, letting her adjust and sliding them into Alex like she has all the time in the world. Alex bites her lower lip and scrabbles at the edges of the pillow under her ass.

“Maggie,” she says, hips stuttering as Maggie spreads her fingers slightly, “Maggie, could you just…?” 

“ _ Now _ you’re ready,” Maggie concludes, taking her fingers away and bearing down.   

Her kiss is hungry, and Alex gasps into her mouth at the first push.   

Having men inside her used to feel like an invasion. She’s wise enough now to know that she wasn’t aroused, that of course her muscles would freeze up at such an intrusion. But having Maggie press her hips forward feels like she’s slotting herself inside not to take, nor to give, but to join. 

She nuzzles her nose to Alex’s, voice low.  “Okay so far?”

Alex thinks of the archaic teachings about men and women becoming one through this act, and while an adjustment or two must be made on the account of the context and their gender, she thinks she might agree now. 

“Yeah, keep going.” 

Maggie is deep-seated in a way men have been before, and yet this time, the voice in her head that usually screams for it all to end as quickly as possible is non-existent. Instead, a small part of her never wants this to end. 

Holding herself up on her elbows, Maggie glances down as she pulls out and pushes back in again, further this time. So begins a careful rocking rhythm. Electricity sparks from Alex’s core. She’s almost embarrassed at the slick sounds of them screwing like this. She knows it’s a combination of the lube, her own arousal and her inner muscles sucking at the toy, but sex has never sounded so wet and wanting for her before.

“God, that’s...” Maggie groans. Immediately, she seems almost shy that she said it aloud.

Alex looks up, even as she wants to shut her eyes at the shudders running up and down her body. “That’s?”

Maggie grins. “It’s hot.”

A billowing heat sweeps up her body at the admission. Arousal trickles through each and every nerve. She doesn’t care how vulnerable she is, she wants more. Her muscles loosen and she tips her hips up to invite Maggie deeper still. She gets a pleased grin in response.

She takes in each detail and absorbs them, knowing she’ll want to recall them later. She revels in the intimacy; having Maggie’s soft grunts against her clavicle, the way her rhythm speeds each time she drags a moan from Alex. Burying her face in Maggie’s neck, she wonders if she could trick her mind into replacing her first time with this.

“You’re so beautiful,” Maggie says, her voice strained as her thrusts falter slightly. She readjusts her balance, and Alex clutches her shoulder blades. 

“Harder,” she urges, the words almost lost in Maggie’s neck as she wraps her legs around her waist. 

The extra force of each thrust knocks the wind right out of her lungs. She can feel the rolling muscles of Maggie’s abdomen each time she snaps her hips inwards, and the building pressure is familiar and new all at once. 

Her thighs shake around Maggie’s hips, and she tries to swallow the high, pleading sounds that threaten with each thrust. It is like her vocal chords have been shortened, and each breathy sound that escapes is several octaves higher than her normal pitch. Eventually, the smooth roll of Maggie’s hips descends into a choppier, driving rhythm, and those pricks of pleasure crescendo into spikes. 

With a lewd push of Maggie’s flat palm against the back of one of her thighs, the deliberate grind upwards that was  _ just right, _ and Maggie’s thumb seeking out the right spot, Alex unravels. 

Pleasure rockets down her spine and flares out. She lets out a cry as her body arches involuntarily into Maggie’s above her. Faintly, she can hear Maggie encouraging her, kissing her jaw and cheek, but the orgasm rushing through her takes out all of her senses apart from the pulsing inside.  

Afterwards, she knows it must look absurd, wrapped like a koala around Maggie, twitching with aftershocks. But Maggie is holding her just as closely as they catch their breath. 

Finally, she allows Maggie to inch up. Hazy brown eyes stare down at her, awash with affection. 

“You okay?” Maggie asks raggedly. 

“I’m-” Alex clears the roughness from her voice, bringing her hands down over Maggie’s shoulders and slipping up to cradle her jaw. “I’m okay. You?”

Maggie nods, searching her face for something before leaning down to kiss her. Alex doesn’t hesitate, deepening the kiss, reality setting in. It’s psychosomatic but she wonders if Maggie can taste the victory on her tongue. She is reminded of a prism where when light shines at just the right angle, it is refracted into something much more beautiful. 

Maggie leans up on her knees, still buried inside of her. She stares up at the still-hungry eyes, heaving chest and clenching abdominal muscles, and Alex realises that rainbow metaphors are perfect for this experience.   

Maggie’s hands roam from her knees to her thighs and her stomach, and then carefully she reaches down the pull out of Alex, who inhales sharply as she clamps down on the sudden emptiness.

Sticky and pulsing between her legs, Alex feels paradoxically unpleasant and pleasant at the same time. She pushes her hair off of her forehead and listens to the buckles as Maggie wiggles out of the harness and drops it to the floor. She flops down beside her, huffing out in what Alex suspects is satisfaction. 

Maggie groans, digging the heel of her palm into her stomach. “Forgot the strain on the abs.” She looks over. “You good?”

Alex rolls onto her side, pushing up on her elbow. “Couldn’t you tell?”

She sees Maggie weighing up the options in her mind, and a thousand irrational responses turn her brain into a buzzing hive. She expects the  _ Yeah I could tell, _ the smugness after a conquest. But the woman beside her is familiar, her blossoming smile is full of sweetness, and Alex curses herself for not trusting her. 

Alex leans in to brush their lips together. “Did you like doing that to me?”

“I didn’t do it to you, Alex. I did it with you.” 

She appreciates the sentiment, but Maggie is like a carpenter with a skilled touch and Alex feels fastened into something new. She almost smells sawdust in the air; feels the urge to brush wood shavings onto the floor.  

“You did it with me,” Alex concedes, kissing her again. She whispers, “But did you like it?”

Maggie’s lips curl into a smile against hers and she mumbles, “Yeah, I liked it.”

Between kisses, Alex asks, “Would you like to do it again sometime?”

Maggie chuckles and gives her a playful shove on the shoulder. Alex steals one more kiss before sliding to her feet. She hesitates, but takes the toy with her, guessing Maggie will want to wash it. 

“Just leave it in the sink, babe. I’ll deal with it later,” Maggie says.

In the harsh bathroom light, Alex can see it shine with lubrication and her own arousal. She uses the toilet, and then reaches for some wipes to clean the excess off of her inner thighs. She knows in the morning she and Maggie will shower together, but she’ll feel better when she slips into a pair of Maggie’s boxers. 

She’s midway through taking off her makeup when she catches her own eye in the mirror. The flush is still high in her cheeks, and she lowers the wipe. She remembers very vividly when she was 18, staring herself in the face after losing her virginity. She had gone home, locked herself in the bathroom, and tried to process the night. She felt different, but it was insidious. She remembers the regret, the shame, the pain as she stepped into the shower and realised she was still faintly bleeding between her legs. Afterwards, she had opened the bathroom window and as the steam evaporated, she had met her own eyes in the mirror and wondered if it was always going to feel wrong.

She remembers similar times, when she was in college, with steady boyfriends. She remembers the bloodshot eyes at dawn after getting home from a stranger’s apartment. She remembers a speckled bar mirror after blowing someone in an alley. She remembers the self-revulsion.

She remembers how bright her eyes were the morning after she first slept with Maggie, brushing her teeth as giddiness bubbled in her stomach.   

Working off the rest of her makeup, she wishes she could go back and tell that girl she wasn’t broken. She was gay, there was nothing wrong with her body. She wishes she could tip that college girl’s chin up and tell her she was worth more than a warm body for drunken men to paw at just because she hated herself. 

Maggie is already in fresh underwear when she pads into the bathroom. With a surge of excited gratitude, Alex grabs her and kisses her. She spins her towards the sink, swallowing Maggie’s noise of surprise, enjoying the hands clawing into her lower back. 

She wants to thank Maggie. Not just with a sexual favour, with making her breakfast in the morning, or even buying a gift. Everything feels inadequate as she leans away to take in Maggie’s swollen lips. 

“What was that for?”

Alex can’t possibly begin to tell her, so she just runs her thumb over her dimple and says, “I love that you put on fresh underwear just for me to take off.” 

Happily startled at the confidence, Maggie grins. “Well, my mistake.” 

Alex ducks down to kisses the soft spot under the bone of Maggie’s jaw, the one that makes her knees tremble, and murmurs, “I’ll be waiting.”

Stretching like a house cat upon Maggie’s sheets, she feels the ache between her legs and can’t stop grinning. She doesn’t stop grinning when she presses Maggie into the mattress, or when she makes her come, or when they wrap themselves up to sleep. 

Alex drifts off, thinking that she might just end up grinning through the night, too. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between 2x13 and 2x14.
> 
> ii) That enjoying being the 'passive' or submissive partner in sex will cause Maggie to stop recognizing her power and authority outside their bedroom.
> 
> Some amazing artwork for this: https://omegawanheda.tumblr.com/post/180726130566/was-commissioned-to-do-a-scene-from-the-sanvers

It starts that night with a bet, as it often does with them. 

Alex tips her head up and applies a last brush of mascara to her eyelashes. Leaning back, she laps up her own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her hair frames rouged cheeks in delicate waves, and she shakes it out around her jaw. 

She screws on the lid of the mascara, and then fixes the laced edge of her bra. Navy, tonight. The set is in stark contrast to her skin tone, but she likes it. And she knows she will like how it matches the tone of Maggie’s uniform. 

She had never been interested in lingerie or femininity in general before Maggie. Sure, she could paint her face and wear a pretty dress, but there was no gratification in impressing men who only wanted to get past that to the sex anyway. It seemed a wasted effort. 

But having Maggie drink her in, seeing the appreciation that she spent some extra time on her appearance just for her, that’s special. And likewise, going to dinner with Maggie and seeing the lengths she had gone to just because she was on Alex’s arm means something viable to her. The dresses, the eye shadow, the dabs of perfume under her jaw and the jewellery glittering on her wrists; these things make seeing Maggie in a tank top and boxers, tottering around her kitchen and rubbing hazy eyes in the mornings all the more special. 

Alex bites her lip, shrugging on her dark, silk shawl. Nights like these were all about performance. Like a stage dresser, she had prepared her apartment; classical music lilts from the stereo, the scotch is breathing on her coffee table, and the armchair is angled just so towards the fire. She knows Maggie likes watching the shadows dance along their bodies as they writhe on the couch or the cream rug. 

She does too. 

So it had started with a bet, which Alex had ostensibly lost. But as she hears the scrape of a key in her front door, she thinks she might have won after all. She goes to the doorway, finding the detective moving confidently through the apartment like it was her own.

“Hey,” Maggie greets, not looking up from where she pours scotch into the single crystal tumbler. 

“Hey,” Alex returns, clicking off the bathroom light, “Rough day?”

Maggie’s lip quirks, staving off a smile. These lines are ridiculous, but fun. Pretending like they didn’t see each other less than two hours ago adds a layer to the simmering tension. 

“The worst, babe,” Maggie replies, and sips at the tumbler. 

Dressed in full uniform minus her cap, she takes a seat in the sky blue armchair. Her eyes rove over Alex’s form still propped in the bathroom door frame. She splays her legs wide, the telltale bump of her crotch and the smug twist of her mouth sending heat down Alex’s spine. 

Ever since that first time they had used a toy together, they had indulged in further experimentation at Alex’s insistence. Before Maggie, she never really experienced sex that could be so different each time; had never imagined trusting a lover to deliver such a range of encounters. She could be wild or safe, unhinged or enraptured. Sometimes, she could encompass all of them at once. 

Adding accessories only broadened the horizon of their limits. Suddenly, she had a space and a person with which to explore the areas of her sexuality left untouched for so long. She could break down the barriers that lingered on after her coming out. Unfortunately, internalised homophobia and prejudices are deeply entrenched in her views, but brick by brick, Maggie is helping her to bring those walls down. 

And Alex is glad. If she had shied away from using toys, she would never have discovered that joy of laughing around Maggie inside her as they accidentally knocked the contents of the dresser onto the floor. She would have never have discovered the intimacy of staring down into Maggie’s eyes as rain battered against the window and she rocked her hips until her hands clenched around the headboard. 

And she definitely wouldn’t have discovered that there was a spot inside her that made her legs shake and her eyes roll back if Maggie hit it just right. 

Granted, the occasions with the toy numbered only around a half a dozen, yet each one was so unique and brought new lessons, they were bright and fresh in Alex’s mind. 

Maggie sits like royalty in that blue armchair, but while she wears a mask of disillusionment, Alex knows her better. When they began foraging into fantasies, they had hit some major insecurities. Alex had learned to pleasure Maggie through the sounds she made and the open display of her approval. She hadn’t been sure if Maggie’s hardened expressions meant that she wasn’t doing a good enough job or not. It had twigged a responding worry with Maggie; her ex calling her borderline sociopathic still stung. 

Now, however, they’re in a much more comfortable place. Mentally, and physically. 

“You poor thing,” Alex laments, padding over, hips swinging, “Anything I can do to help?”   

Maggie regards her, eyes trailing down the navy set. No matter how hard she tries to school her features, Alex is close enough now to see the darkening of her stare. “I think you know by now.”

She does, indeed. 

She cages Maggie in the armchair, tilting her head. They lock eyes, daring the other to break first. She sinks to her knees down onto the cream carpet, and claws her fingers down the pressed uniform pants. On the way back up, Alex makes sure to press her thumbs on the inside of Maggie’s thighs, enjoying the bob of her throat. 

“Well it’s not gonna take itself out,” Maggie rasps. 

Alex clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “So impatient, as always.”

Taking another sip of the tumbler, Maggie raises an eyebrow as if to ask  _ What are you waiting for?  _ But while she tries to maintain her nonchalance, Alex catches the natural shake of the scotch with how tightly Maggie grips the glass.

This practised mask, stoic and disinterested, is always betrayed by her eyes. They fill with hunger, with want, and barely restrained urgency. And as Alex slides the buckle of her utility belt free and moves for her zipper, she suspects there’s something deeper there. But they haven’t broached that, yet.

With some careful working around an open fly and cotton boxers, the silicone toy juts proudly from Maggie’s hips. She knows that Maggie likes to play with some of these elements, bending gender just enough, twisting power dynamics just enough. And honestly, Alex likes it too.

Wrapping her hand lightly around the base, she brushes a loose fist upwards, and then tightens as she moves it back down, enjoying how Maggie’s stomach curves inwards at the pressure. 

She never worries about being like this with Maggie, she trusts her unconditionally. She still gets thrills thinking of the patient way Maggie had smiled down at her, had supported the back of her skull as Alex took as much of her down her throat as she could.

Funny that certain acts become more accessible with a change of lover. Without the pawing, incessance of men, without their smell or their taste, she finds she could like this act, especially when she knows Maggie does. It’s a performance, for sure, purely visual. And yet that is all the better. 

Without hesitation or losing eye contact, she runs the flat of her tongue up the toy. Revelling in the sharp exhale, she teases her tongue around the tip, again pressing against the base. 

“Get up here,” Maggie says lowly. 

With a triumphant grin at the impatience chipping away at Maggie’s facade, Alex stands and straddles her lap. She reaches for the toy again but Maggie breaks course, reaching around the back of her neck to draw her down into a heated kiss.  

Pulling back, Alex gently butts their noses together. “You okay?”

“Yeah I just…” She reaches up to tuck some of Alex’s hair behind her ear. “Really wanted to kiss you.”

“I’m never gonna complain about that.” 

Maggie flashes a warm smile, and Alex watches her attempt to rein the affection back in. She swirls her scotch. “So?”

Alex steals the glass off her and takes a sip, and then she leans away and puts it on the floor, gently grinding down on the toy. She spies a clear bottle top peeking out of Maggie’s shirt pocket.

“Convenient,” Alex notes, keeping her face as straight as she can as she pinches it. 

“It is,” Maggie agrees, moving to hook her fingertips in Alex’s underwear. Without preamble, she follows the lace around. Alex jumps as her knuckles brush the inside of her thighs, and she chuckles. “Eager?”

“Maybe so,” Alex says, clicking open the bottle. 

“Maybe so? Let’s see...” Maggie wiggles a hand further into the navy lingerie, and the contact against wet heat almost has Alex fumbling with the lube. She hums at the arousal she finds, but while she stills any movement, she doesn’t remove her hand.

Biting the inside of her cheek and trying not to grind wantonly into the warm fingers resting against her, Alex pools a generous amount of clear liquid into her palm. Carefully, she reaches down to smear it on the toy, and so begins a silent battle of wills.    

Her composure falters as Maggie dips a single finger lower but she regains it as quickly as she can. She continues to stroke her hand around the toy, pushing at its base until she sees Maggie’s jaw clenching. Immediately, her clit is caught between two of Maggie’s fingers, and if she was in the right state of mind she might have been able to recall the name of the joints but the world diminishes to the pulsing between her legs. 

“Ready?” Maggie purrs. 

Alex knows whatever she says won’t be steady, so she chooses not to say anything, and Maggie’s resulting grin is as dangerous as she’s ever seen it. 

_ Interphalangeal joints- _

Maggie moves her underwear to the side, uncovering her crudely. Her movements are methodical, challenging Alex to refuse her. But anticipation snakes its way around her body and constricts, and instead of fighting Alex shifts her hips up and directs the toy to her centre. Only then does Maggie break the eye contact, observing their joining as if it were a ritual. 

Blood boils in Alex’s veins at the initial stretch. Only when she has Maggie all the way inside does she close her eyes and appreciate the heat pulsing through her lower body. 

“Gorgeous,” she hears Maggie say, hands travelling up her taunt stomach to her bra. 

She once remarked that she thought Maggie would have made a good pianist. While they had joked about the dexterity and length of Maggie’s fingers, Alex had suggested that her sharp focus and ability to coordinate her touch with her concentration would have made her a quick study. 

Maggie’s fingertips count the bones of her spine like black and white keys, moving steadily up. But her body is trembling, twitching for her to move, and she grinds forward in question.  

Lavishing Alex’s throat and chest with languid kisses, Maggie makes a noise of disapproval. Without warning she heaves the navy lace bra above Alex’s breasts, and leans in to close her mouth around a nipple. Gasping in surprise, Alex thrusts her hips forward again, and a resulting graze of Maggie’s teeth feels like a caution. 

Alex rarely begs. She chooses more often than not to try and coax Maggie into a reaction rather than ask for it outright. But she considers it, throbbing around the toy inside, tortured by Maggie’s leisurely ministrations. 

Finally, Maggie rakes her teeth underneath a breast, and then sits back in the chair. She shifts her hips, encouraging a groan from Alex. 

“Alright,” she says, “I know what you’re dying to do.”

With her bra shoved up over her breasts and her underwear pushed to the side, Alex should feel cheap as she rides Maggie in an increasingly desperate manner. And yet this faux impatience is also part of the act, as if to be indicative of how Maggie’s desire has no reason to wait for what it wants. 

Maggie’s hands move from her lower back to her ass, squeezing as she holds Alex down for a beat and thrusts her hips as far as they will go. Sensation rockets from Alex’s tailbone to her scalp as the toy presses against a spot deep inside of her, the pleasure prickling at each of her nerves on the way up.

“Yes,” Alex calls, letting her head fall back as Maggie does it again, and then again, harder, “Oh, Maggie, yes!”

But suddenly, Maggie clamps an iron grip around Alex hips and shoves up. She jerks her own hips as far down into the armchair as she can, effectively dislodging herself from inside of Alex, who groans at the emptiness.  

“No,” Maggie growls, breathing harshly, “You don’t get to come yet.”

“Dammit,” Alex huffs, unable to do much more than wiggle in Maggie’s hands. The rush of blood slows through her body, the absence of touch dragging her away from the precipice. “Maggie-?”

“You lost the bet, Alex.” Maggie smoothes her thumbs along the grooves of Alex’s hipbones, dipping under the underwear. “We’re playing by my rules.” 

Still panting, Alex shakes the hair away from her face and then leans in to tenderly kiss over Maggie’s cheek and jaw. “If you make me wait, I’m gonna finish this myself.” 

“Like you could.”

“I could.” Alex slides a hand dropped from the chair to Maggie’s shoulder. Then down over her torso, prigging at each of the buttons embossed with the NCPD crest. And down further still, until she changes direction and moves her fingertips up her own thigh with purpose. “I definitely could-” 

Maggie grabs her wrist, tugs them closer. They share each ragged breath, until finally she pitches forward to catch Alex’s lower lip and nip it between her teeth as a warning.  

“My rules,” Maggie whispers, like a threat and a promise wrapped up in one. 

Alex rests their forehead together, enjoying the press of Maggie’s thumb against her inner wrist. With a snap of the fire and a rising crescendo in the music, that building pressure swoons again in her stomach. “What do your rules involve?”

“They involve you getting your ass over to the bed and bending over it.” 

She shifts back and contemplates the firelight dancing across Maggie’s face. Then she steals one last deep kiss, tongue and all, before clambering off of Maggie’s lap and heading for the bed. Sliding the shawl off her shoulders and unhooking her bra, she leaves her underwear on and plants her feet and palms. 

Maggie’s boots tread heavily as she moves around the apartment, switching off the stereo and advancing to the bed. As she steps up behind her, Alex has a change of heart. 

“Wait.” She stands and faces Maggie, working at a silver button with a sudden shyness. She hates to step out of their routine, but the need for skin against skin prevails. “Just you? None of the bells and whistles?” 

Maggie’s face softens for a moment, and they share a few fleeting kisses. The worry uncoils from Alex’s stomach. Then, Maggie spins her by the shoulders and pushes down on her stomach, lower than before. Her upper chest hits the bed, rebounding slightly. 

Without the music, she can hear each shuffle of a button through its hole, the rustle and clunk of uniform pants hitting the floor. Alex flexes her toes in the suspense, remembering a time when she would have felt uncomfortably exposed.  

The handful of times that she had sex in this position before left her feeling used, and honestly, she hadn’t been sure how any woman - or man, she now consciously included - could have someone bend them over like this and not feel even marginally violated. But feeling Maggie draped over her, spurred on as she filled her changed that. She was encouraged because of the trust she had in the depth of Maggie’s want and experience.

And just like every time, that willingness to  _ try _ led her to brand new heights of pleasure.   

Fingertips curl under her underwear, pulling them until they drop around her ankles on their own. A beat, and then a tongue unexpectedly swipes through her core. Alex gasps out, tottering slightly off balance. With a chuckle, Maggie doesn’t tease her anymore. She straightens up and eases the toy in about half way, one hand smoothing up Alex’s spine. 

“Oh, come on,” Alex taunts, rocking up on her toes at the careful treatment, “You almost had me coming in the chair.” 

Maggie leans down heavily upon her, mouthing at her shoulder and the curve of her upper spine. “What, you don’t think I’m-” They share a sigh as she pushes the rest of the way in to the hilt. “You don’t think I’m up to the job?”

“I don’t know.” Alex’s voice strains, and she takes a deep breath as she readjusts to having her girlfriend buried so deeply inside. “Are you?”

Maggie grins against her shoulder blade. She bites at the skin and curves her hands around underneath Alex’s belly. Down, she moves, curling around the inside of Alex’s thighs and prying them further apart. There’s a burn, a stretch as Alex shuffles her feet apart and tilts her hips just slightly to accommodate the new positioning. 

But even as Maggie builds a steady rhythm, it still seems like she’s holding back. 

Alex pushes her hips back, bending her back provocatively and then raising up on her elbows. She looks over her shoulder at where Maggie is watching the toy sliding in and out of her. Arousal prickles at her scalp even as her inner muscles contract deliciously at her lover’s movements. 

“That’s all you’ve got, Sawyer?” she teases.

Maggie’s gaze is glazed over as it flies up to Alex’s face, her brow furrowing as if she got lost in the moment and the question is being slowly processed. Finally, the meaning seeps through and Maggie snaps.

Alex is forced face down onto the sheets, and Maggie amps up the thrusting to a throttling pace. Even as she barely sucks in a breath to brace herself against the onslaught, she squeezes her eyes shut and grins. Perhaps she was wrong to think of Maggie as the musician, when Alex is the one who knows how to play her.

Maggie shuffles forward, spreading her hands on either side of Alex’s shoulders. The rolls of her hips become more fluid, and trapped between the mattress and Maggie’s body, Alex simmers with need. 

Now that they have reached this stage, Alex knows that being with Maggie like this is not submission, it’s liberation. Sometimes sex this raw leaves her stripped down to the bone, but she has found that it isn’t about reducing her down in any way. More, it is about making her become molten liquid and drawing an ore from her blood. And in the after, when things have cooled and the world is solidified again, she feels like her bones are filled with those extracts of pure gold. 

“That’s it.” Alex bunches the sheets in her fists as the toy strokes against that spot inside. “That’s it!”

Maggie bears down on her, breath puffing between her shoulders as she picks up the pace. “Feel good, now?”

Alex doesn’t answer, moaning out as Maggie’s teeth set against her skin. As she gets closer, she reaches out to grip the wrist by her head. Maggie’s other hand slips down her stomach, down to where they’re joined, and with a seasoned touch, Alex goes hurtling over the edge. 

Pressure bursts from between her legs, and she cries out into the bed below her as her orgasm sweeps her body. Maggie slows the roll of her hips, guiding her through the waves until she melts like warm butter into the sheets. 

For a while, Alex’s world consists of the residual throbbing between her legs and the pounding of blood in her ears. Gradually, she becomes aware of Maggie kissing over her shoulder, grinding her hips. 

“Okay?” she whispers.

Alex, eyes still closed, hums.  

Maggie puts the pad of her thumb against a particular spot around Alex’s right shoulder blade. 

“Hickey in a weird place, again?” Alex asks, muffled by the sheets.

“Sorry, got carried away,” Maggie mumbles. She caresses Alex’s ribs, and then gently pulls the toy out. 

Alex breathes out through her nose, sinking impossibly further into the sheets and clenching around nothing. Sapped of energy, she enjoys the atmosphere of the apartment cooling her skin. Maggie shuffles for a moment, pulling on underwear and a shirt she finds in a drawer, and then potters away to leave the toy in the bathroom. When she comes out, she switches the stereo back on, and hums along to a familiar piece of music.    

With a huff, Alex pushes herself up. She slides on a fresh pair of boxers from the drawer, and then deliberates over the sight of Maggie’s crumpled uniform shirt. Eventually deciding, she picks it up and slips it on before going to the bathroom. 

She uses the toilet, mops off her make up, and rolls up the sleeves of the navy shirt up to her elbows. Then she leans against the doorframe, contemplating her lover. She radiates domesticity, moving under the yellow glow of Alex’s kitchen lights. 

Occasionally, Alex feels a spark in her legs, reminding her of the punch that Maggie could pack when she wanted to. It is almost difficult to reconcile with the image of her slight girlfriend being so delicate as she rearranges items on the counter. 

But then Maggie reaches up into a high cupboard in search of something, and the hem of Alex’s shirt teases up over her ass, and heat pools in Alex’s stomach once more. Stalking into the kitchen, she is still astonished that someone could hammer her into the mattress, and then patter around soft and barefoot a few minutes later.  

Maggie turns and smiles as she approaches. 

“You look good in this,” she says. She tugs at the NCPD shirt, and Alex notices marks on her wrist. 

Wordlessly, she takes it and turns it upwards. She sees four half-moon indents from where she had dug her nails in as she came, and she lifts them to her lips. 

“You okay?” Maggie asks.

Alex nuzzles the inside of Maggie’s wrist, and for a second craves Kara’s ability to hear heart rates. She wants to hear the thud of blood circulating just under the smooth flesh, wondering if it still sizzles in the aftermath of what they had just accomplished together in her bed. 

Instead, she gives the wrist one last kiss and lets it go. “I am.” 

Maggie skates her hands over Alex’s waist. “You know I love lingerie on you but that navy number?” 

Alex snorts as she whistles. “You didn’t exactly take the time to appreciate it.”

“Sorry, I was thinking with my…” Maggie runs her teeth over her bottom lip, a grin bursting through. “With my silicone appendage.”

Chuckling, Alex leans down and presses their foreheads together. She cradles Maggie’s jaw, her thumbs brushing the corners of her mouth. “Thank you. Bet or no bet, I really needed that to work off the stress of today.”

“Oh no, thank you.”

Alex kisses her then, and takes her time. She moves Maggie’s hair off of the side of her neck and moves her unhurried explorations there. “You didn’t come.”

“You know it’s not about-” She breaks off with a gasp as Alex’s teeth scrape against the spot under her jaw that always frazzles her. 

“That it’s not about what?” Alex prods, kissing featherlight patterns on Maggie’s neck that have her whimpering.

“That it’s not-” Maggie’s voice falters. Alex smiles against her neck and flicks at the waistband of the boxers, letting the elastic hit back against Maggie’s waist. She pulls back from the crook of her neck and they fall into a deep kiss. 

Alex shimmies the boxers off Maggie’s hips. They fall comically around her ankles, just as Alex’s underwear had before. They share a knowing grin before Alex scoops her up onto the countertop. The fruit bowl takes a bump, an orange breaking free and rolling away to tumble off the other side. Alex doesn’t pay it much heed, with her hands up Maggie’s shirt and her mouth back on her neck. 

Soon enough, Alex is mouthing down over Maggie’s quivering stomach muscles. She isn’t much interested in teasing. She wants to deliver her girlfriend swiftly to the same gates of rapture and release.  

The height of the counter causes an odd bend in her knees, but it’s worth it just to have Maggie’s thighs hooked over her shoulders. She moans at the first taste of her, and sets to work getting the detective off as quickly as she can. 

She loves this, truly. The balance of power between them is like a set of scales. Maggie treats her as an equal; no act leaves a mark on their relationship. Just because Maggie bends her over and takes her apart piece by piece like she has tonight, doesn’t mean she will act superior or domineering in the morning. 

Alex knows it was immature to think in the past, but the first time they had had sex a little rough, or she had been _ taken _ like that, she worried that Maggie would no longer respect her authority or power as an agent. She was wholly, completely wrong.  

Knowing her agency is respected, knowing that she can keep her fantasies within the bedroom and not have her lover judge her for them outside makes her much happier to be as vulnerable as she can. 

And honestly, the rougher treatment makes the turnaround much sweeter. The memory of Maggie fucking her so deeply is fresh in her mind, and yet here the detective is shaking and goading her on with whispers. 

Alex keeps the lashing of her tongue relentless, building to the crest of that broken attempt at her name falling from Maggie’s lips. Only when all that remains are the flinches of aftershocks does Alex pull away, wiping her mouth and straightening up between Maggie’s legs. 

Maggie embraces her, hiding her face in her chest, and Alex sways them as much as she can in their position. Alex knows she’s in love with this woman, and wants to desperately to tell her. But she doesn’t trust herself to speak, and doesn’t want such an important thing to be said in a post-sex haze. 

So she contents herself with holding Maggie closer, lulled by the strings of the stereo and the thump of her own heartbeat. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set circa 2x16
> 
> iii) That she wouldn't be able to return the favour because she had never imagined herself fucking a woman that way.

_ Do you ever think about wearing it? _

Posed over breakfast, like it’s nothing.

Maggie moves around, tidying up from the night before. With a touch of scotch running through their veins, it had gone just beyond the boundaries of their usual routine. A little wild, a little raunchy, with an end result of a release that was craved by the time it was delivered. 

Trying not to react too strongly and end up pouring the blistering hot coffee over her hand, Alex looks up to see Maggie packing away the cleaned toy into the drawer.  

“You want me to wear it?”

“Sure.” She nods and hoists herself into a seat at the island as Alex passes her a cup. She blows on the surface, causing ripples, and looks up through her eyelashes. “Is that something you want to try?”

Alex flounders. She has always prided herself in having an answer to everything, or having the space to figure one out, but Maggie has always swept her off her feet and left her scrambling in the air. 

Of course she would have the opportunity to wear a toy. She hadn’t just expected to receive, had she? And yet she can’t think of a time where she imagined herself on the giving end. Was that because she didn’t want to? Or was this just another blindspot that she had missed?

Like staring at an optical illusion, something appears from the background, something that was unseen before. 

It frightens her. 

“Earth to Agent Danvers,” Maggie says, butting her knee against the side of Alex’s thigh.

“I uh-” Alex sips at her coffee and scalds her tongue. She tries to clear the disorientation of the question, the panic and the burn. 

Maggie, with her sixth sense for knowing if she is pushing Alex too far or too fast, leans up to kiss her on the cheek. 

“You get to take me to work today, babe,” she says, diverting from the subject, “Excited? Cause I am.”

And that is the end of it.

Except it isn’t. 

Sitting in her lab waiting for Dr Jorner, she feels hands clawing at her back, Maggie’s voice urging in her ear, heels digging into her tailbone. She revisits memories. In a college lecture watching the seat of a girl’s pants shuffle in the aisle in front of her. Watching a woman fix her dress at a party and noting just how perfectly tight the material was in certain areas.  

Once, in bed with Maggie, she hadn’t been sure what possessed her. With her fingers seated inside her girlfriend, she had used her other thumb to pull at her bottom lip, revealing Maggie’s bottom row of teeth. The woman under her had taken some unspoken cue and sunk those teeth into the pad of her thumb. It had only driven her to twist her fingers and widen them, resulting in a keening noise from her lover who bowed up underneath her. 

Afterwards, she had watched the thudding pulse in Maggie’s neck. She remembers having the urge to bite down on it. Instead she traced it with a fingertip and followed the pattern of freckles down her throat. As she went, she whispered the muscles, veins and arteries that traversed the area under the skin.  

Eventually, she had heard a sleepy: “Night night, Dr Danvers.” And that marked the end of her explorations. 

But she knows that wasn’t anything to do with showing off her knowledge of anatomy, it was something else, something she can’t put a name to.  

“Dr Danvers?”

Alex jumps at the sudden presence in the doorway. “Dr Jorner?”

An intergalactic polyglot and reknowned zoologist, Dr Jorner is an old friend of J’onn’s. He is a Zikarian who had quickly become attuned to the ecosystems of Earth due to the range of frequencies that he could pick up. He stands a few inches taller than Alex, in a haphazard suit that seems much too short at the wrists and ankles. 

“Yes!” he says, leaping forward to eagerly shake Alex’s hand, “Do you mind if I…?”

Zikar is a planet where inhabitants share psychic bonds, and are also shapeshifters. In ability but not in appearance, they were to Martians what Kryptonians were to humans, which is why J’onn had taken to him so well. 

“No, not at all.” 

With a sigh of relief, the man transforms into his natural form. He shrinks several inches, a grey fuzz sprouting all over. His ears become pointed, growing high above his head like a rabbit. The suit fits around him much more comfortably, although Alex sees a tail swishing over his shoulder. 

She smiles warmly. “Better?”

“Much.” He grins, all sharp teeth. “May we get started?”

They had discovered eggs during a raid on a warehouse a few days ago, and couldn’t identify the species. After tests were done on them, they determined that either due to the conditions in which they were found or another outside factor, the younglings inside had perished. 

Jorner listens intently as she talks through her tests, methods and findings. She notices that his beady eyes shift colour as she talks, and he politely waits for appropriate openings to ask questions. The longer she goes on, the more she realises how good it feels to have a civilised, scientific discussion like this. It’s been a while since she was seen as an expert on alien physiology, rather than the tough gun-toting agent, and it’s been even longer since she’s been able to talk passionately about science at length without being interrupted or having it turned into a joke.  

For another while he reads through her report, asking questions when they arise and she answers with confidence.  

“Well, I’ll go back to my own lab and consult my books. It’s been a while since I’ve seen this species.” He rubs at a white tuft of fur on his chin. “But I’m quite intrigued by your findings, Dr Danvers. Your intuition is brilliant.”

“Oh, please, Dr Danvers is my mother,” she says, waving off the praise. 

They make small talk as she clears away her notes. She asks about his work, and learns that his psychic ability extends to animals. It helps him work with them, as primitive as those psychic projections can be. He has come to be known as the species saver, somehow knowing how to get even the most reclusive animals to mate, and has written several papers on the subject.   

She edges around some obvious questions, eventually asking what his favourite animal on Earth is.

“Well, I do enjoy talking to J’onn about the birds of paradise he observed in Peru,” Jorner says. His ears like satellites, they move to hone in on something that Alex’s human range doesn’t pick up. “On Zikar, we didn’t have ecosystems as diverse and richly populated as Earth. It truly is a treat to work in this field.”

“The closest I’ve ever gotten is either in a zoo or through a nature documentary,” she replies.

She walks with him out to the balcony, wondering what it would be like to hear the thoughts of an animal. Peering down over the railing, she sees Kara, Maggie, Winn and J’onn in a cluster at the console. They seem at ease, taking a break from their work. 

Today, the official paperwork and induction seminars were taking place that would allow Maggie to become the official liaison between the NCPD and the DEO, and while the atmosphere is relaxed, it is a significant move forward in relations between the departments. 

“Be it a pride, a pack or a herd, it is important that your mate fits in with your family,” Jorner says, indicating the group. 

Well aware of her idiotic smile, she nods. “Yeah.” 

“Are you satisfied that he has?”

She snaps out of her reverie. “I’m sorry?” 

Jorner indicates Winn, who flaps his arms and wheels around. Whatever punchline he delivers sends Maggie and Kara into hysterics. Even J’onn’s shoulders bounce with a brief laugh. “The man entertaining?”

“Oh, no! Winn and I aren’t-” She clears her throat and points to Maggie. “She is.”

“Ah.” His pointed ears rise as if he is more impressed with this selection. “Still, the sentiment remains, the basic instinct as well.” His throat makes a clucking noise, and his eyes mist into a brighter hue. “Yet I suspect you are repressing yours.”

Alex rounds on him. “E-Excuse me?”

Jorner pokes at his ear, looking away. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend you, Agent Danvers. When you do this kind of thing for a living…”

She takes pity on him. She of all people knows that aliens with different sensitivities can find it hard to grasp Earth’s way of life. “It can be hard to switch off?”

He nods, turning his attention back to the assembled quartet at the desk. “So, you and your mate...”

Alex scrunches her nose. “Can you just call her my girlfriend?”

He gives her a crooked smile. “You only seek to prove the point I was about to make.”

“What’s that?”

“That humans have an incredibly complicated society which can interfere with their mating rituals.” He eyes her carefully, and she spies his tail twitching over his shoulder. “They will ignore basic instincts for fear that it runs against their social conditioning.”

“I’m sorry, mating rituals? Basic instincts?” She makes sure there are no agents in earshot before saying, “My sex life is  _ fine _ , thank you, Dr Jorner.”

He clicks his heels together, bows his head. “Indeed. Again, I apologise for any offence caused.” 

He walks away from her, the tip of his tail circling. Glancing about anxiously, she trots after him, her longer strides reaching him before he gets to the staircase. 

“But say that it- say-” As he turns to face her, his face a mixture of inquisitive and all-knowing, she struggles to find the right phrasing. “What if there was something I wasn’t sure of?”

He guides them back over to the railing, tail whipping about. “Because you don’t want to and are afraid of your mate’s-”

_ “Girlfriend’s.” _

Jorner pauses, grinning with those pearly teeth. “Because of her disapproval? Or because you’re scared of a part of yourself you’ve never let out before?”

“Say it was the latter.” Alex leans her elbows forward on the railing, wondering when she had decided it is acceptable to have a stranger as a sex therapist. “Say that my… social conditioning was causing a disconnect between my mind and my body.”

His chest emits a purring sound as if in agreement and understanding. “Unfortunately, this is a common issue with humans. I would say that you should stop thinking about what you think is the right way, and start  _ feeling _ the right way.”

His ears prick up, and she wonders what exactly it is he can detect from her- and in how much detail. She tries to worm her way through to her real question while paradoxically blocking any conjured images of toys or harnesses or Maggie’s hands gripping her cotton sheets. 

“This problem is pretty… situation-specific.”

“You’re scared about how a certain act reflects on your personality? Or you’re scared that it will reveal something about you that you might not like?”

Her cheeks flare up in embarrassment. Is she that transparent? She had been taught to fight for a world in which women were respected, had buffeted against sexism and misogyny since she was old enough to understand what they were. She hates how men talk about their girlfriends and wives, like women are sex objects and are to be treated and discarded as such. 

She thinks perhaps that’s the negativity that is forcing her to push away the thoughts of wearing a toy, of holding Maggie down and having her exactly the way she wants to, making her take it exactly as she pleases.  _ Fucking _ her exactly as she-

“Yes,” she whispers.

“You’re aware of homosexuality in the larger animal kingdom, yes?” She nods, and he continues. “Female animals out of their cycles will mount other females. Part of them must know this will not lead to any offspring, but it’s their instinct that that is what they must do with a mate that they desire. They show their sexuality in the only way they know how. It’s their primal instincts.”

“Okay, but human females don’t- we don’t-” She feels as if she’s lost her footing on a hill, desperately trying not to tumble down as dirt comes loose. “There are other ways.”

“Of course. But that’s because humans are advanced, intelligence creatures. Yet those basic instincts to… connect, are the same-”

_ Connect? Did he mean to say to fuck?  _

“-But take marmots, for example. Females will often initiate encounters by nuzzling each others’ mouths, or chewing on their partner’s ear or neck. Does that sound unfamiliar?”

Alex is glad no one is around to see her turn crimson. That dirt underfoot stabilises, but she still feels precarious. “No…” 

“Exactly. They proceed to couple and copulate in the only way they know how, the only way that their bodies are telling them to.” His ears and tail flitter as if to punctuate the statement. “Just because humans believe themselves to be above rutting beasts, doesn’t necessarily mean that belief is completely true.”

_ Rutting beasts _ \- she had been disgusted by the huffing and puffing of men above her as they sought their release. But with Maggie she practically craved it; that moment when the detective lost all decorum and became abandoned in the search for climax. She had been addicted to that ever since the first time Maggie had come against the flexing muscle of her thigh. 

She could lie under Maggie and take it because it was something she knew how to do. She knew how to spread her legs and let someone inside  But returning that favour is a whole new ballgame. It isn’t like she doesn’t have agency or anything. But even imagining Maggie in control, lowering herself down onto a toy, taking it inside-

Why is she even putting so much importance in a phallus? She’s a lesbian, and even at that, the perceived power from having a penis is false. She knows that, and as a female agent in a military-style job, has actively fought that notion. And yet she practically preens at the idea of watching a toy thrust in and out of her girlfriend, to have her beg for more of it. 

Is this because she was in the closet for so long? Are these physicalities still a hang up? Does her girlfriend, who has never been with a man and always known her sexuality, feel the same way?

She looks down into the belly of the DEO and spots the woman in question. Maybe she needs to talk to her. They’ve been getting better and better at communicating and being more vulnerable, especially since the Valentine’s Day fiasco. 

“It’s more than that. Everything we’ve done together, it’s been more- I guess it’s-” She winces. “It’s been lovemaking. Or, at least, it’s been  _ sexy _ , you know?” 

“And these currents inside that you’re afraid of tapping into, they aren’t sexy?”

“They feel…” There is no point clamming up, he could see all, she knows now. He stares straight past her shame and schoolgirl blush and sees the darkest desires of her heart. “They  _ do _ feel sexy.”

“But?”

“But…”

She trails off, and looks down over the bannister at how carefully Maggie inspects an object that Kara has presented. She can’t make it out for sure at this distance, but it doesn’t matter. Kara has it cupped in her hands, and Maggie ever so cautiously fingers at it, as if afraid she’ll break it if she handles it without care.  

“You care for her, and feel like this kind of act would be somehow disrespectful of that?” Jorner says, “It would evoke something primal and, dare I say, brutal inside of you?”

She nods. “The need feels darker.”

“You’ve tasted darkness before.” There’s another grumble in his chest. “You’ve taken life, to protect your kin.” 

She has killed to protect Kara, to protect the city, and she would do it again. She was trained to be a defender, but also a predator, stalking and capturing prey. She uses her strength, her cunning and her senses to identify and take down threats. She has fancy footwork and state of the art weaponry, but her instincts are all from the gut. That’s all natural. 

“You’ve tapped into that before, but it’s not something you’ve had to lose yourself in.”

“I’ve come close,” she says in a quiet admittance.

“Don’t forget, Dr. Danvers, humans are still animals. The need to take, to claim, is perfectly natural. You can reach in and harness that darkness, and return to the light of your humanity whenever you wish.”

All of a sudden, the thought of pinning Maggie beneath her and taking her exactly as she wants, as she craves, makes her head spin. 

“All this talk about mounting and... “ She palms her forehead. “I feel really weird now.”

“That’s your social conditioning,” he sang, walking away, “You’re all just Earth animals to me, human.”

She thinks about it for the rest of the afternoon, buried in her notes. She leafs through diagrams, swipes through the reports she gets sent and even takes it upon herself to experiment with a substance also found in the same raid as the mysterious eggs.  

Securing her safety goggles and rubbery gloves, she drops the shiny rock into a tub of water. It fizzes violently, swimming around the surface of the water until it produces one last, furious sizzling sound and dies out. 

She watches the water rippling until it returns to stillness.

She has had Maggie and made her come undone with her fingers, her mouth: why should strapping a toy to her hips be any different?

She strips off the gloves and rubs her temples. It is different, and she suspects now that she’s reviewing her memories and her opinions she might know why. 

There was a guy in college who was her lab partner. He took a gender studies class in the morning, and entertained her with the wild lectures in the afternoon. He’d identified as asexual himself, and they’d had several conversations at length about it. He had told her about penetration and power structures, and maybe she had absorbed more of those lessons than she thought. 

All of this is unravelling now. Maggie had been the one to bring it up. If she didn’t want Alex to wear a toy and have sex with her in that way, she wouldn’t have done so. 

She puts down her goggles, remembering the playful glint in Maggie’s eye that morning. Maybe Maggie had learned to play Alex at her own game, had learned that sometimes the best results had to be coaxed into reality rather than outright asked for. 

At her inquiry, an agent informs her that Maggie is still in the building filling out the paperwork that will establish her as an official liaison. She has been running through security clearances and briefings with J’onn all day. 

Alex hunts until she finds her returning from HR. She catches her by the waist in a deserted corridor and pulls her in tight before the startled detective can wriggle away. 

Maggie relaxes once she realises who it is, and leans back against her. “Hello there.”

“Hello,” Alex murmurs, nuzzling her ear. 

“Any particular reason why you’ve grabbed me by the waist?”

“I wanted to tell you something.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

She pushes her hips forward against the smaller woman’s in suggestion. “I wanna wear it.”

Maggie stiffens, and then turns in surprise. It gives Alex the opportunity to propel her backwards. Her girlfriend lets out an  _ oof _ in surprise as her back hits the wall and Alex slots herself between her legs. 

“Alex, you know you don’t have-”

“I want to.” Alex presses even closer, enjoying the stutter of Maggie’s breathing. She lowers her voice. “Tonight, I want to.”

A darkened gaze bounces between her eyes for assurance. “Okay.”

Alex steals a single, bruising kiss, and then pulls away. The muttered  _ Jesus Christ _ doesn’t escape her as she strides back towards her lab, and feels something stir in her stomach. 

But unlike the morning, she doesn’t try and silence it. She lets it roar. 

~

Later, she’s doing everything she can to hold Maggie on the precipice. She pins her hips to the bed, not breaking her concentrated efforts to get her girlfriend as needy and wet as she can. It earns her a nasty tug on her hair. 

“Stop…  _ teasing _ ,” Maggie pants. 

Alex hums, strokes her thumbs along the outsides of Maggie’s shaking flanks.

“You want me to stop?” she murmurs, nosing at the crease of her inner thigh, “And go get the toy from the drawer?” 

At this, Maggie untangles her hand from Alex’s hair and pushes up onto her elbows. Her chest heaves, hair mussed from lolling about on the pillow, but her eyes are bright. 

“You want to?”

Alex licks her lips, and then nods. “Yeah, I do.”

Maggie swallows and then juts her chin in the direction of the drawer. “You know where it is.” 

She grants one last lick at Maggie’s centre, just to watch her body jerk, and then shimmies off the bed. She gets the harness and lube, and then glances over her shoulder. 

“Any preference?”

“The black one.” 

“Alright,” Alex says, trying to calm the excitement lighting up inside her stomach. She grabs the toy in question, and then lays it all on the bed by Maggie’s hip. Then she crawls back between her spread legs, feeling panther-like, hoping not to be too ridiculous. 

Maggie’s thighs have bracketed her hips before and yet it’s never felt like this, never had the charged anticipation that this does. 

“Why don’t you give it a try?” Maggie asks, pliant and bemused below her. 

Alex’s gaze bounces down between them and back up again. “I’m not wearing anything yet.”

“True.” Maggie lifts her hips in demonstration. “But get a feel for it.”

It’s awkward at first, Alex pressing her hips down against her girlfriend. There’s an uncomfortable press of their pubic bones, but she shuffles down and adjusts until her hips press against where Maggie is wet and the contact makes both of them inhale sharply. 

“Just like that?” Alex utters, pushing her hips forward.

“Let’s get you strapped in,” Maggie teases, pinching at her side.

The kneel together on the bed. Maggie helps her with the harness, her nimble fingers making quick work of it and the toy. Next she strokes a generous amount of lube on it. Alex knows it’s preposterous to imagine feeling the warm fist curl around the toy, and yet the way Maggie stares through her eyelashes as she does rumbles heat through her stomach.

With a flourish and a wink, Maggie lays back. “Ready?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Alex asks unsteadily.

At Maggie’s lazy grin, Alex inches forward on her knees. She clears the dryness in her throat, looking down between them. The intimacy of knowing another body as well as her own had become a comfortable, snug fit. But here, she rips it and starts again. Touching Maggie like this, guiding a toy into her like this, that’s entirely new. She takes her time, watching the stretch and enjoying the groan as Maggie accommodates her.

Halfway in, she smooths her free hand down Maggie’s thigh and over her quivering stomach. “How does it feel?”

Maggie rolls her head on the pillow, smirks down at the juncture of her thighs. “Feels good. Keep going.” 

Trying not to jar their hips, Alex leans forward and kisses her. Maggie’s hands slide up over her ribs. “How do you like it?”

Her voice come out as gruff and low, more so than she intended.

“Just…” Maggie exhales as Alex pulls out and presses her hips back in further. She slides her hands down low on Alex’s spine, tipping her hips up. “Like that, deeper.”

She pushes in the whole way, watching every flicker of movement on Maggie’s face. 

The instinct kicks in, her rhythm coming less and less manufactured. She rolls her hips slow and deep, like the churning of butter, and watches Maggie bite her lower lip. Hands catch her shoulder blades, neck straining. 

“Faster,” Maggie breathes. 

A studious lover, Alex obliges. 

But as her hips meet Maggie’s over and over, as stunted gasps of her name float through the space between them, that force in her chest threatens to break through. She closes her eyes for a second, enjoying the shocks of pleasure as she applies a certain pressure to her thrusts. She opens them again, and sees where the toy moves slickly in and out of Maggie. 

And that force breaks out completely. The mechanical aspect of falls away, and she ruts forward. If Maggie’s grip on her back and the moan of surprise gives any indication, she likes the upped ante, too. 

She wants to rationalise that it is about more complexities inside. All those chemical reactions, neurological stimulations, years of social conditioning. But the truth is as simple as she can see it; the thrill is here, in burying herself over and over deep inside her girlfriend, seeing the ecstasy melt across her face each time an angled thrust hits its marks. She no longer has to peek up through clenching thighs to see how Maggie’s eyelids flutter shut and her eyes roll with pleasure.

Her arms strain so she drops to her elbows, and somehow that’s even better. Their stomachs are pressed together, muscles undulating under lithe, sweat-slicked skin. She can hear Maggie’s broken gasps in her ear, the vibrations of her moans as she kisses her throat. She’s grunting with exertion and somehow that animalistic grumble in her own chest makes this even sweeter. 

Her abdominal muscles are beginning to burn, but instead of calming the pace Alex ratchets up the speed of her thrusts. She wants to break them both to their core, their purest, the truest form. All she can think about is making Maggie come with a cry of her name.

“Alex,” Maggie moans, nipping under her jaw and clawing low on her back, “Alex, it's so good.”

“Yeah,” Alex growls, never slowing as she bears down.

She knows now why the word  _ fuck _ is so obscene; because it’s this. And perhaps she hadn’t intended for a possessiveness of this intensity, but it has her in its jaws and Maggie only seeks to drag her closer. 

Has this always been embedded in her chest? This temperament, this desire? Did Maggie recognise this before she ever did? Did she effectively plant the question this morning as a key to a cage of the untamed creature?

“You like this?” she mutters. 

“Yes.” She hooks a leg around Alex’s lower back, encouraging her deeper. “God, yes.”

Alex dips down to take a nipple between her teeth. Blunt nails scrape across at her scalp, and then there’s a surge and the world flips. She finds herself on her back, staring up at a triumphant, flushed Maggie above her. 

Maggie’s lips curl up into an open, panting grin as she leans down for a kiss. Her shoulders shake with a laugh that’s broken through with a moan, one that has Alex laughing in return. They’re both so wrapped up in this, and it’s obvious that it’s getting them both off. They can’t deny it to themselves, let alone each other. 

Alex’s hands grip Maggie’s hips, her eyes falling to fix on where they’re joined, on where she’s thrusting up inside her girlfriend. She can’t stop watching it. And she doesn’t want to. 

She sits up, and Maggie loops her arms around her shoulders. She catches Maggie’s hooded eyes, the stare so blown and gone completely, and knows she would offer her throat if Maggie wanted it. 

It’s a tight fit to twist her wrist between them, but she manages to provide exactly what Maggie needs. She rocks her hips hard once, twice, and then her entire body arches away with a cry. Alex watches the shuddering begin with her hips, the crease between her eyebrows, the dropping open of her mouth, and holds her closer through the throes of it all. 

It’s the golden moment of pure bliss, and it isn’t even her own orgasm. She treasures each tremor, each jerk and shiver, as Maggie sinks back down against her, resting her face in the crook of her neck. She rubs circles over a sweat-slicked back, trying to catch own breath. 

The window is open, a cool breeze whispering over their heated skin. Alex lays back, holding Maggie’s close to her still. She looks through the blue dusk, and marvels at how it makes the woman above her seem like a shadow.

Maggie props up on her elbows, grinning widely. “You okay?” 

“That was so hot.” 

Sharing a conspiratory post-sex giggle, they steal kisses for a few beats, and then settle for straining against the lack of light. 

“It was.” She takes a deep breath and sits up, gripping the toy and gingerly sliding herself off. Then she topples to the side, resting a hand against her forehead. “Jesus, Danvers.” 

In a daze, she fumbles with the clasps and buckles. Somehow, she gets the toy off, and lets it drop over the side of the bed, endeavouring to clean it after a moment’s rest. As her body comes down from its state, she feels the twinge of muscles that weren’t used to being so vigorously tested. 

Fingertips flirt along her abs, and then slip down with purpose, grazing her navel and skirting lower still.  

“Wait,” Alex says, catching Maggie’s wrist and drawing it away. 

She can feel Maggie’s eyes burning through the thickening darkness. “You sure?”

Instead of answering, she brings Maggie’s wrist up, kissing over the delicate bones of the joint, and then pressing their hands down flat against her stomach. 

For a moment, they’re content. Outside, there’s a rumble of the bus that passes this route every four minutes. It’s the only real traffic at this time. She listens to the pneumatic pressure of the air hissing as the door opens to let on a passenger, and the resulting whoosh as it closes again. The bus screeches, and then bumbles on away from them. 

Maggie’s hand wanders again. Her fingertips roam across Alex’s navel, and down over the faint indents left behind by the harness, as if investigating leylines. 

“Was that okay?” Alex asks.

Maggie leans up on one elbow. Even in the bluey hue, Alex can make out a lazy smile. “Are you kidding? You really gave it to me.” 

Alex snorts, and Maggie lays her head on Alex’s shoulder, her hand going back to its investigating. After a while, Alex thinks Maggie might have gone to sleep. She hears another bus go by, this time it doesn’t stop. 

Then, a confession - “You know that was the first time in a long time for me.”

Alex isn’t sure if she imagined it. “What?”

“I mean I’ve had toys and everything used on me before. But I've only ever had it, well, a couple times, but not…” She curls a hand around Alex’s waist, letting it rest there, her thumb stroking over a jutting hip bone. Her voice recedes within herself, but not so much that Alex doesn’t hear the end of her thought. “Not like that.” 

Alex shifts, pressing her lips against Maggie’s hairline, inhaling the scent of her strawberry shampoo. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Honestly? I was afraid of what you’d think. If you’d do it knowing you’d be the first one in all that time. In that way, anyway. I didn't wanna pressure you.” She taps at Alex’s hip, as if showing her a point on a map. “I’m supposed to be the experienced one, right? And it’s not like I haven’t been fucked with a toy before it’s just...” 

“Nothing is pathetic if it’s what you want,” Alex reminds her, echoing advice Maggie had spoken before. 

“I’ve always been the tough one. The cop. And it's such a vulnerable thing, to let someone in like that.” Maggie shrugs, burrowing further into Alex’s arms as the breeze brings a chill to the room. “No one really offered, and I never asked.”

“That’s why you played it off as a joke,” Alex realised, “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“For a while.” 

“In the future, just ask, okay?” 

Another patch of silence, and as the third bus since they finished passes, Alex finds that Maggie really has fallen asleep. As much as she hates to do it, she gently nudges her shoulder. With a yawn and a stretch, Maggie gets up and pads to the bathroom. 

Alex pulls the covers from the bed and closes the window. The door to the bathroom opens, and Alex carries the toy with her, passing a sluggish Maggie on her way. She washes it, and leaves it out on the counter to dry like Maggie does. 

When she gets back into bed, Maggie immediately nestles back into her heat. She tugs until she manages to get the blankets at least partway over them, draped over their hips. 

She drifts her knuckles up and down Maggie’s spine, feeling the gentle puffs of breath against her collarbone. Inside, there is a glimmer of satisfaction that she was the person that Maggie wanted to have her like that- with her hips. She isn’t sure she’s even a possessive person by nature, but still that glimmer pulses to life. 

Maybe Dr Jorner was right after all. 

It’s just those primal instincts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hope you all enjoyed this. Pop me a comment if you did :).

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know :)


End file.
